The Spirit Tree
by GuineaCatJJ
Summary: Hey guys. I know the movie catergory is Home, but this is an original story. Its about 4 kids, 1 evil spirit, and 1 tree. Hope you enjoy!


**The Spirit Tree**

Chapter 1

The Misty Man

The soft, dove-like rain fell on Enna's pale face, misting it with frosty air. She blew sharply out of her mouth to get rid of a single rebellious mosquito that still buzzed around her face persistently, and her long, charcoal, interlaced hair swung freely in the wind of the beginning of a monsoon.

She laid a hand over the splintered, sap covered bark of The Thunder Tree. The vast, winding roots trapped her feet in a wooden cage, and the nappy branches rustled in the wind with a snapping noise. Enna cloaked her green turtleneck tighter around her casis and tried to block herself from the chill of the evening air.

Up above Enna, a boy named Josh Whiting at the age of 17 rubbed his collapsing eyes. He was pleasantly sitting near his fractured anvil, sculpting warm iron into a blade, for he wasn't like an ordinary schoolboy, in fact, he wasn't a schoolboy at all. He had much more to worry about, for instance, his survival.

Amanda Whealock, the youngest at 5, was tall with fire-like, shoulder length hair that was almost always peaceful. She always wore a coral long sleeve, and a worn pair of jeans that stood up to what she did. Animals were her thing, and she spent her time learning about how to mimic the prodigious endowments of the animal kingdom.

Of course there was Allie Whitefin, the third youngest. The main character of this whole story. A 14 year old, burnt sienna haired young woman, she didn't possess any natural ability, ( though she was past her 1st teenage year, when Josh began to learn more about his gift). She wasn't disappointed with her life though, she would rather die a hero then a villain, like any other girl her age. Though something about her was different, yes, something was rather astonishing about the young woman who called herself Allie Whitefin.

It began to rain, and grow slightly cold. Allie was happy with the weather, because warm weather tended to make her lungs shriveled and brittle. Though rain and storm allowed her to breath in the free blowing, wet wind with freedom. She felt that darkness was a part of her, and letting in the light wasn't the easiest thing to do.

The dark night was peaceful, and the moon was gently sitting down on the top of the Thunder Tree, which hugged a messily built treehouse. The treehouse was made from clean cut planks and rusty nails found near the forest floor, and wasn't used for looks. The only thing it was used for was protection and shelter from the storms.

The rain wasn't uncommon. The people of Rainorman were used to the rain and storms, that´s why the shelters were not prodigious, like most cities in the east. The people who lived there were Natives, eating sun dried fish and making homes from wood, though when the flu wiped out most of the tribe, they lost hope of growing larger and raising more children. The tribe prayed that soon, one day they would have a baby that could help them all. The baby could get clean water for them to help heal the sick, and help the tribe live on.

In time, the baby was born. Little Allie Whitefin was born at the strike of midnight, and the echoing screams of the leader's wife could be heard for miles. Her father, Chief Drath, though that the child was made of dark magic. The tribe's custom was to worship all good forms of magic: ones that could heal and bring back life. Though dark magic was a different kind, and Drath believed that Allie would grow older and kill the tribe one by one. He was mortified.

The night that he tried to kill her, it was storming. Barly the middle of December. A stone cutlass in his hand, Drath walked to the baby, tears in his eyes, and jabbed. Though what he didn't realize was that he had stabbed something that meant more to him, his wife, Jicea. Weeks later, he didn't make it to the funeral, for he killed himself by drinking the blood of a young boy: James Herial. Who was dreadfully ill with the flu.

Allie's other ancestors were a mystery, and now she didn't bother worrying about it. For nothing else was less important, especially caring for the beautiful wooded thicket that was her home.

Now the night we speak of.

….

Amanda was exhausted. The burns on her hands (she had recently snuck a white hot blade from Josh's anvil to dip it it in cool water were so hot that it made him feel as though he had a fever, and the heat of the anvil only made it worse. She stopped and crept down the dissonant rope, and deceived deeper into the woods. Enna didn't like her, the youngest, being this close to the mountain, but he didn't care.

The stream consisted of the coldest, clearest water that ever crossed the filthy forest's path. Though it was the mountain people were afraid of. Mount Incendia was the only mountain in the plains that wasn't short and stubby, it was tall and ended in a rocky point with a small hole: much like the one that you would find when you bit into the end of a strawberry. Even though the mountain had its share of dark magic, Amanda wasn't afraid.

She dipped his hands into the icy water and drank deeply, the drink cooled his throat and his palms. But something felt odd about the setting he was in.

The stream was cool, serene, and the jagged rocks almost looked out of place compared to the rest of the calm meadow. The rocks drew bloody marks into Amanda's knees, which annoyed him very much. Out of pure curiosity, she lifted the rock beneath his feet and looked underneath.

An eye the size of a snail looked back.

Amanda screamed, and flung the rock at the mountain. It bounced off with a pathetic thud, so Amanda grabbed the eye. It was warm and slippery in her hand, and he wanted nothing more than it gone. He threw the eye at the mountain. Had she been farther away, had he not seen the eye in the first place, then they still now would have been totally normal people. It slipped through the air and landed in the small hole that was the mountain's tip.

The ground began to shake. It was silent shaking, and had it been any more powerful it would have been mistaken for an earthquake. The multicolored stones that covered the mountain shook wildly, and the very tip spewed steam as white as snow. The usual rain stopped abruptly, leaving only a dark, cloudy, starless night. Josh felt ill, gazing at the mountain with abomination and turmoil, as it rumbled like a hungry child.

His throat went dry, and his hands shook like mad. The mountain was doing something astonishing, it spewed green, lava like goo, though it moved faster than its brethren. Instead of giving off a hot, smoky feel in the air, it felt more like it was bringing winter to the plains at that very moment. The cold was undeniable, and frost covered Josh's nose and lips. His t-shirt wasn't much protection against the unbearable cold.

Meanwhile, Allie's eyes went dry as she stared at Josh, who was backing away from the horizon. She had watched what had done, from finding the stream and drinking to hucking the eye into the top of the mountain. It was coming back to her, she knew what was going to happen, and they had a 50-50 chance of either dying or meeting a terrible faith. What she would do was a mystery, and the scent of death was about to behold her.

Enna put a hand on Allie's shoulder, but Allie shook her head. It was over, yet it was only beginning.

It was a blur of motion, pain, and cold as the goo swept through the forest. Josh shouldn't have thrown the eye, in fact, now he regrets what he had done. Every day he knows that if he didn't toss that eye into the mountain, they would have been safe. The cold and darkness wouldn't have to be a part of them.

Magic was a part of them now, it brought out what they believed in, what they _really_ were. Their symbols now stand carved into the bark of the tree. Josh's was a wand, Enna's was a shoe, Amanda's was a cat. Though the one that was most mysterious was Allie's, which was a droplet of water.

Magic was now part of their souls. And no dark magic could erase the terrible memories and clouds of the night it all began.

….

The cat bounded around the tree roots, snarling at the cuckoo that fluttered through the twigs. The small tabby was grey with black ears, though it could've been mistaken for a small tiger the way it was bounding for the small bird. Though it wasn't a tiger, it was a small, hungry tabby with the name of Amanda Waelock.

WIth the cuckoo in it's teeth, the tabby sauntered home proudly. The winter breeze blew softly in her fur.

Amanda's long hair was interlaced into two, long braids behind her back. She pawned the dead cuckoo over to Enna, who cleaned it and plucked its feathers away. Food was scarce in between fall and the freezing months of winter, and Amanda was always happy to help when it came to going on the hunt.

The freeze occurred so suddenly made Josh felt as though he had been clouted over the head with a sharp stick made from solid ice. It left him dumbfounded, though he didn't really know why. A single snowflake drifted down onto Josh's anvil, melting into hot water. Great. The first snow was coming fast.

 _That's impossible_ Josh though, lost in thought at the single snowflake _How could the snow come this fast? It's only November._

To everyone's surprise, a light dusting of freshly fallen snow had appeared on the forest floor. It was a very gentle dusting: small bouts of white here and there. In fact, there wasn't much snow at all, but it was the first snow. And all short snow days seem to last forever.

Cold as it was, no animal bothered to stay inside their caves in hiding. The fresh weather was vitreous, serene, and the animals never much had the snow fall in the type of climate they lived within. Rain frozen over the ground, snow and ice.

A single fawn strided throughout the trees. It was small, barely more than 25 pounds of bones, but it was fat. Filled with fresh oil and meat, _good_ meat. Rotund, sleek meat at least 90 pounds of weight, perfect heated over a fire or smoked over a hickory grill. Though the friends didn't have a hickory grill. What they did have was voracity, and a great deal of it at that.

Amanda perked up, a racing in her heart that she could not ignore. She felt belligerent, as the small, flabby fawn that sniffed gracefully throughout the snowy land. She licked her lips, hungrily pondering on whether or not to kill it, feasting angrily on its flesh was the only thing she would do. Amanda was only 10 years old, and she had never pondered so hard, and felt so belligerent, boring at the fawn with awe. How could it be so large? So prodigious, so amazing...Amanda's hunger was pounding at her stomach harder than ever before. The hunger was awful, and the only thing that swept through her mind was to _kill_ it. Kill it like a monstrous slayer that was her body. She could bare it no longer.

She was creeping up upon it in a trapper like manner, taking the time to gaze at it from all directions. Just as she had thought, it was beautiful, calm as though nothing was happening, and Amanda saw the opportunity to leap in upon it and and claw it dead, sink her teeth into it like she hadn't eaten in days, even though Amanda could smell the cuckoo cooking over the fire. The hunger to rip into the fawn was routing throughout her body. _Tear it to shreds!_ Her mind reiterated the words to her again and again, _Tear it to shreds! Tear it to shreds and ribbons! Relieve your hunger! Save yourself!_

But Amanda, crouched beneath a thick thornbush, found herself not moving. _GO!_ She shouted to herself, but nothing happened. Shock ran through her, how could this be happening? She wanted to catch the fawn, to feel it in her heart and mind to catch it in her teeth, but she couldn't, and the thornbush was ripping her skin raw. She stood and watched the fawn leap gracefully away like it was running from a wolf. That wolf was her, howling at the moon that was her soul, and the cat that was her mind. Her vicious, horrible mind.

…

The fire's warmth was borgerding around around Allie like a mother's arm around her baby. It was soothing, soft like a baby's first laugh. It calmed Allie to sleep almost in an instant. Though it was the appalling scent of a roasted cuckoo that finally woke her.

It was a warm scent, much like a pound of turkey that had been heated to a maximum temperature. It was sweetened and savory all at the same time. A mouth watering, beautiful, scent. Though it might have not been much for a regal, the fat cuckoo was a dinner fit for a king.

The meat was tender, sweet, savory. Though there was something that made Allie feel strange as she ate it slowly. It relieved her hunger, but made her feel ill inside. Why she felt this way was a complete mystery, but she felt it anyway. It was a feeling that made her upset about the food she was eating. It wasn't that the food wasn't good, in fact, it was delicious. But Allie felt horrible that she had not contributed into catching the bird. With an overwhelming power of emotion, she stopped eating and climbed the ragged cordage, up, up, up, straight to the treehouse.

Allie sat on the rugged treehouse floor and sighed. She watched a fat fawn in the distance, and wondered why Amanda wasn't doing anything about it. It was chilly within the walls, and Allie's blanket wasn't doing its job. She was cold and clammy, and her stomach twisted in all directions.

Enna climbed the cord and leaned on the wall of the treehouse. She looked at Allie, who was still staring out the window. She looked sickly. "Alle? You ok?"

"Yes." Allie growled. Her voice was raspy and quiet, yet understandable.

Enna wasn't convinced, "Fine," she said, "I'm leaving." And with that she climbed down the rope and sat back down with the group.

It was the darkness that finally brought Allie to sleep, covered by the warmth of pine needles freshly fallen from The Thunder Tree. It was with the intense feeling of illness that water spread over her, almost instantly turning to ice. Allie was freezing cold, sick, and worst of all, confused.

Why didn't anyone understand how she felt? Why did the world seem to turn on her at a single feeling? She wanted nothing more than someone to hold her, cradle her like a baby and hug her there forever. Nothing came to her. Nothing happened.

The darkness of night had spread quickly, making the treehouse colder than it actually was. Through the shivering and the gentle droplets of water that covered Allie's body, there was one sense of fear that was spreading like wildfire throughout her body. Through the cold of the winter and the heat of the fever, it warmed her and soothed her. Calming her down to sleep.

Within the hour of sleep Allie had allowed herself, she could feel a soft, invisible hand spooning something warm into her mouth. She opened her eyes slightly, as though trying to espy something, but all she saw was her mother, Jicea Whitefin.

Her mother's green eyes bore smoothly upon her, and her hand brushed Allie's warm face. Allie didn't understand how she was there, how her cool hand spooned warm broth into her mouth. Jicea's gentle, caressing touch cooled Allie's fever like magic, and once she left in a cloud of blue mist, Allie was fast asleep. Locked into a deep world of echoing peace.

…

 _Let me go_ Allie thought inside her head _Let me out._

 _No_ a deep voice answered.

 _Who the hell am I speaking with?_ Allie whispered in her sickly, raspy voice.

 _You should know_ the dark voice answered.

Allie tried to swallow her fear _But_ _I don't._

 _Than I guess you will never know_ the voice growled softly.

 _Show me_ Allie let out.

 _I will_ the voice purred, and out of nowhere a misty, white man appeared.

Allie could almost feel herself being thrown to the floor. She felt the floor dip in waves below her feet and the blinding white walls cave in. _Who are you?_ Allie managed to let out.

The man smiled and rose his arms up, almost about to push the walls back to their normal positions, but instead he walked slowly to where she was lying and smirked.

 _I,_ the ghost growled, _am someone you should soon meet._

The walls caved in further, the waves of floor went higher, Allie couldn't feel any bit of her body. The man continued walking slowly toward her, a screaming of a woman crawling through Allie's ears. The walls were hugging her in a wrap of death, squeezing every bit of life she had out.

 _Leave me be! Let me go!_ Allie called, but as she looked up, the man was gone. He had left her to die in the white room.

The walls squeezed her tighter, tighter. The floor grabbed her legs. Allie couldn't move, she needed help. She could barely speak..but she managed to let out a blood curdling scream for help. The voice cut her throat bloody like a knife.

In the middle of the morning, Allie Whitefin woke with a start.

….

She was alone in the treehouse. There was at least 3 inches of snow outside, and inside the treehouse it was icy cold. Allie had absolutely no idea how long she had been sleeping, but she knew it was more than a couple hours.

It was almost mid afternoon, crickets chirping and small birds singing their evening songs, absolutely soothing. It seemed like a completely normal mid afternoon, but what confused Allie was that no one was there.

She climbed down the stiff rope, as she always would in the morning. Enna was laying down on the warm dirt, she almost looked...dead.

Allie tried not to shriek, and she raced down the the rope and knelt at Enna's side. She wasn't dead, for a minute later she sat up and leaned against Allie's torso, swaying in dizziness.

"What's wrong?" Allie asked, but no reply came from Enna's lips.

"For the sake of god!" Allie hissed, "Tell me!"

Enna's whisper finally came, "My...head."

In panic Allie searched for any prominent injuries on Enna's head, but none were found. She felt her forehead for a fever, but it felt normal. Nothing seemed to be the matter! Enna had a headache for the sake of it!

Allie rested Enna's head back onto the dirt. Though somehow there was a craving deep inside of her, screaming at her. _Get to the woods_ it said, _Get to the woods._

There was nothing but fear and panic rushing through Allie's blood as she began sprinting through the deep wooded thicket. She didn't know what she was looking for, but it had to be important, and hopefully, extremely prominent.

Allie's hair caught in the twigs above her. It was getting colder, the snow was getting deeper and deeper, and Allie had not yet recovered from the flu she had gotten. That's when a root caught her foot and she fell, plummeting her body to the cold, hard ground.

Allie's body was plunged into a pit of a million tiny ice spiders, biting her from every direction. She twisted in attempt to escape, but only found herself laying on her back, her head rested on a white pillow of snow.

She managed to sit up, catching her breath with hard jets of air from her mouth. She began coughing, having a fit of it. Horrible, painful, wet coughs that left her throat red and raw. She was an ice cold, mound of flesh. Coughing roughly.

After the fit of sickly coughing, she drew more breaths. She turned her head and sneezed, which was rougher than the coughing. The pain in her throat was overpowering, overwhelming.

Allie finally looked up, praying that no one was watching her in pity. Though all her hopes were lost when she looked up and saw the most hated person she would ever set eyes on.

She looked up to see her father.

The gasp that escaped from her mouth was cold and piercing. It was the man that attempted to squish the life out of her in the white room, he tried to _kill_ her. Drath himself had attempted to destroy him, and he was her own father.

Allie's raw throat allowed a whisper that hurt beyond words, "Who are you?"

"You can call me Drath," the man smirked, "but many call me His Majesty, king of spirits."

A cold chill ran through the forest air, it was raining, storming even. The raging water seeped through the snow and melted it into a cold slush, which ran down Allie's back uncomfortably. She looked up again and saw no trace of the white man, no trace of the jungle she was lying in. She was laying on the floor of the treehouse, which was extremely wet and soggy.

Allie hesitantly stood up and growled at how dizzy she felt. Though her willpower sent her to knock on Enna's cracked door softly. No reply. She rapped harder, and got "Stop knocking or I'm gonna break someone's neck!" from a familiar voice. Enna must have been tired.

With a tight sigh, Allie knocked on Josh's door, there wasn't an answer. The walls of his room were stiff and hard. "Josh?" Allie beckoned, "Come out!" But no answer followed.

"What do you need Allie?" Amanda piped up.

Allie turned around, startled. "Nothing of your concern."

Amanda stuck her foot confidently in a crack on the floor, "Yes it is. I need to know."

"No you don't," Allie hissed, "now bug off."

And as though she had said the most magic of words, a jet of water blasted straight at Amanda's chest. It knocked her backwards, sending her rocketing to the floor. She smacked straight into the ground, inches from the opening to the rope.

Amanda screamed and clawed for the rickety floorboards, begging for something to grab hold of, but no such luck. She was beginning to fall headfirst to the ground. Allie grabbed Amanda's hand just as she had slipped and was dangling from the rope. "Hang on!" Allie called, "Don't let go!"

Allie yanked on Amanda's arm, hoping that she wouldn't cut her. She was too heavy. "Grab the rope!" Allie barked.

Amanda tried and tried, but she couldn't get a hold of it quite tightly enough. "I can't!" Amanda cried, but before she could get the words out she found herself out of the hole. She had somehow changed places with Allie!

Allie looked down, and saw her father staring up at her. His arms were out, almost like a mother hugging her son, but Allie knew he didn't want a hug.

"I can't hold on much longer!" Amanda cried, her sweaty palms slipping from Allie's.

Allie let out a gasp of fear and continued to stare at her open armed father, when she slipped from Amanda's grasp.

She was falling, falling faster and faster. Falling like she had never fallen before. She was falling, falling into a pit of dark souls.

And then she hit the ground.

It was of all senses in her mind that were drilling knives into her body, the amount of pain that nailed her back was beyond words, but then Allie realizes something. The pain never came.

A bed of water had risen under her body and lowered her softly to the dirt. Allie felt no pain, in fact, she almost felt soothed. It was chilly water, and salty by the bit that had landed in her mouth. Saltwater...how was it possible that she could produce it with the wave of emotion? How could she do that, made only to protect herself? But her questions disappeared as soon as the water seeped into the ground.

It was her excellent willpower that allowed Allie to stand up from the dirt. The cold was unbearable, but no echo of pain came over her. She swallowed and looked up, expecting to see her father, but she only saw the blank air that swept through the trees, and relief washed over her.

"I'm ok!" Allie beckoned from below the tree, though when she stood she felt sharp, stabbing pains within her calves.

Amanda, relieved, swung from her place and grabbed hold of the rope and slid down, causing painful rope burns on her palms.

Suddenly, Enna and Josh burst out from in the treehouse, and climbed swiftly down the rope. When they reached the ground, Enna raced over to Allie and put a hand on her arm. "What happened? What happened? Are you hurt?"

"No," Allie said grimly, shaking Enna's hand off, "where were you when.."

"When what?" Josh squeaked.

But Allie only saw the misty man, beckoning her over. She didn't move, or talk for that matter. She felt her body go limp, much like how you would feel after a nice, long, peaceful nap. She was being carried.

Allie let her legs stir, then she was walking. Running. _Sprinting_. She ran like there was no tomorrow, but she couldn't beat Enna (for there isn't a way to outrun someone with super speed and strength) She was tackled to the ground, feeling her legs come back to life.

"What the hell is up with you?"Enna growled, slowly peeling herself from Allieś body.

Allie's eyes twitched, nausea filled her. She held her aching head and stood up. Her father loomed over her, she pointed a shaky hand straight at his chest. "What are you pointing at Allie?" Enna asked, "there's nothing there."

But Allie knew that the misty man she pointed her shaky finger at was much more than nothing. It was the cry out of a dead man that told her that there was much more mystery coming into her life. It was a giant set of hands meddling her tightly, squeezing every bit of happiness from her.

And there was nothing she could do about it.


End file.
